Why Orange?
by Illaeshin
Summary: When did I start to hate the color orange? When did it start. Oh yeah. Maiko
1. Why Orange

Why Orange?

Looking up at the ever-darkening ceiling, I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall. At least there was a little comfort in that. My thick hair provided me a small amount of cushioning. Just like the last one, the sunset had been orange. That sickeningly, bright, horrible color, I couldn't stand it. Of course, living in the Fire Nation, I had always been around it, heck, I wore it a few times. Leaning forward I propped my chin on my hands.

When did I come to hate orange? I was never particularly averse to the color. Sure it can be bright and in-your-face annoying, but when was my antipathy for it born?

I stretched in the puny cell, folding over my crossed legs, my hands silent as they slid along the smooth stone. No doubt it had been rougher when the prison was first built, but dozens of prisoners, rotting in here like me, had worn the stones smooth. The only light was a guttering lantern, the meager light from the out-of-reach window having long left.

But I was okay with that. The light had been orange, with subtle hints of red and purple mixed in, but mostly orange. And I hate that color.

Prison was a new one for me. Sure I'd been in an imagined prison practically my whole life, but at least there were a few distractions. Here they took boredom to new levels. Ty Lee was starting to get a little hysterical during the long hours awake. But at least she could climb on the bars and entertain herself. I didn't have a single weapon to practice with, sharpen, or even clean. Tired of sitting, I walked the perimeter of the tiny cell, thinking about my fate.

Azula had sent Ty Lee and me here after a moment of insanity on our parts. I never thought I would go against her; I'm just not that stupid. But, for Zuko's sake…well, I guess I happily faced an army of fire-benders. She had ordered us to be put away, and left to rot. So that meant, at least, no execution. Not a quick one anyway. I'd probably die of boredom in a few months anyway.

Zuko's handsome face came to my mind as I walked in the dim light. It had been a glorious time, the hours spent in his arms, teasing him, trying to cheer him up. Too short a time. Far too short to make up for the long three years since I had last seen him. The image in my memory was that of a young, and proud, fourteen year-old, smiling and boasting that he was going to attend the war meeting, to become a better man so that he would be more fit to rule the Fire Nation.

I had given him a small smile; the smile he knew was only for him. In truth, I wanted him with me. I had perfected the use of the small kunai, and wanted to show him. But still I let him go, knowing his heart was out to please his cold father.

Ah yes. That's when I started hating orange. That was the color of Fire Lord Ozai's clothes, it was the color of the fire that charred Zuko's face black and red, it was the color of the prince's tears too, as blood mixed with water. Yeah, that was when it started.

I didn't get the chance to talk to him after that. His uncle took him away before he woke up. At least, that's what I had been told by Azula. I didn't talk to her for a week. She had smiled at her father's cruelty. Zuko had been banished, and scarred, but I could still see, in my mind, the proud tilt of his head, the fierce determination in his golden eyes. Yeah, I could see it.

Closing my eyes in the darkness of my cell, I pictured again, those eyes. He had looked at me, through the door of that cell on Boiling Rock, and told me everything. In the golden depths I saw everything his note had failed to say. I couldn't stop myself, I had to help him, even if it meant going against Azula, and likely losing my life. If just once I could help him, I was okay with that. He was helping the Avatar now, which was good. That kid needed all the help he could get. I wondered how Zuko would get along with the water-bender, she seemed a little high-strung, but I shrugged it off. It didn't matter if he got along with anyone else in that group, so long as the Avatar learned what he needed to.

Lying down on the thin pallet, so different from my plush bed and couches at home, I closed my eyes again, seeking a distraction in my dreams; a distraction of gold, black, and red. There is no orange in my dreams though, for three years, I haven't seen that color in my dreams for three years now.

Zuko and I joke about it, but he knows I truly hate that color. If he were ever to ask, '_Why orange?'_

I would tell him I just do.


	2. When You Hate The World

Why Orange:

When You Hate the World

{A/N: So Mai one-shots keep popping into my head. I suppose I shall put them in here. ^~^ I'll give a time line at the beginning of each. ^~^ This one is set just after Mai and Zuko have their 'sunset together time' (you know the scene), and Azula butts in.}

'_You're beautiful when you hate the world.'_

His words still echoed in my ears, and the taste of him was fresh on my lips as I walked away from our place, the place we went to be alone; out of the way of everything. If Azula had not come, I could have stayed there until Zuko got worried about the cold. Easily descending the rocky slope, I paused once to look back. Of course I couldn't see them, but I could only guess at what they were talking about.

A small smirk turned the corners of my mouth as I walked through the quiet halls of my family's estate. Of all the things Zuko and Azula could be talking about, the subject I knew would not come up was 'us.' My power-hungry friend had figured out long ago not to tease me about my relationship with Zuko.

'_Azula. Where's Zuko?' _

'_Uncle took him away. He's gone to hunt the Avatar.' She had laughed, 'Fool. He's never gonna find that relic. And when he doesn't Father won't let him come home.'_

'_Why are you laughing Azula? He's your brother!' I was near to tears, 'Don't you care?'_

'_No. If he dies, or gets permanent banishment, I will be the next Fire Lord. Why should I care? Why should anyone care?'_

'_I care!' I'd done it. I'd confessed. Zuko and I had only shared a moment or two, quietly, privately, admitting our feelings for each other. But now…Azula knew…_

'_You? You care about something? About him?' She started to laugh again, 'How ridiculous can you be Mai? Caring about a useless, weak, and­–'_

She hadn't gotten the chance to finish. I moved without thinking, like I had been taught, Pinning her against the ground, my knees on her forearms, I held one of my sharp little knives to her throat.

'He is NOT useless. He is not weak. He's got more strength then the whole of the nation combined, and that includes you Azula.' It was the first time in my life I had uttered a threat, and to top it off, it was against the princess, my friend.

Sitting down on the long couch in my room, I watched the sky darken. Azula hadn't apologized but she hadn't pressed the issue. I never heard another word from her about my relationship with her brother.

Hating the world was something I had always done. My parents did their best to rob my of my will and personality; my country sacrificed the one I did care about for the sake of 'honor', and my so-called-friend was every bit as heartless as her father.

Since Zuko's banishment, my antagonism towards my parents, people, and the world in general had increased. I began to notice the way people talked about the banished prince; the way no would acknowledge his bravery for accepting an Agni-Ki,or his loyalty for refusing to fight his Fire Lord, his father.

I couldn't stand any of them.

Leaving the couch I went to the bureau that housed my ceremonial knives. Pulling it open, the steel glittered warmly back in the firelight. Lifting the two long knives, taking them from their red satin cushions, I laid them to the side, and lifted the pillow. A small stack of letters was tied with a gold ribbon. Lifting them with even more gentleness than the blades I returned to the window, to sit easily on the broad sill.

The day I got a letter from Zuko I had been overjoyed. He had remembered me. There was no scroll long enough for all my feelings and thoughts, but I wrote what I could.

I told him what I'd said and done to Azula, and told him, in no uncertain terms, the next time I saw him, I would kiss him and not care who saw. I told him how much I missed him, and how proud I was that he was doing all he could to find the Avatar and come home.

Our letters continued, and to my joy, and slight embarrassment, Zuko agreed with me about kissing. I told him, a few times I think, how much I hated the Fire Nation, and everyone in it. I knew he could read my emotions far too well in my letters.

'You're beautiful when you hate the world.'

I was startled the first time he had written that. Carefully rifling through the worn parchment, I pulled the letter out. I had been angry when I'd written to him, my penmanship was less than ladylike, and language even less so. It seemed my writing was the only thing that could betray my emotions. He must have smiled when he'd seen it. This letter held that sentence, and when I read it…

Looking out across the broad, dark parade ground separating my family's estate from the other nobles' houses, and, more annoyingly, from the palace, I tried to imagine what Zuko was doing right now. A small sigh escaped me as the image refused to appear. Imagination had never been my strong suite.

Looking back at the letters, I picked up the next few, delicately flipping them open. After reading the last one, another smile tugged at my lips.

'_I don't hate you.' _

I had been desperate to reassure him, to let him know my definition of the 'world' didn't include him. He had responded in kind. Since then, that was how we had signed our letters. It was a silly romantic that signed letters with sappy things like, 'I love you' or 'All my Love'. That wasn't for us. We didn't have any flowery notions of a perfect life, or that everything was just peachy and wonderful. The world was harsh and unforgiving to those unwilling to fight; that lesson had been taught to us early in our lives.

Putting the letters away, I dressed for bed, my face impassive as usual. Lying back on the sheets I stared at the ceiling for a long while, wondering when I would see Zuko next.

'_I don't hate you either.' _

For the third time that evening a smile graced my face. I never told Zuko my definition of the world, but he's smart. Odds are, he's already guessed it.

There's 'the world', something I hate, below them is 'other people,' whom I hate and ignore. Above them all, is Zuko; whom I don't hate.

{A/N: Okay, I don't think this one came across as easily. I would like some constructive criticism please and thank you. ^~^}


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